


Alpha Redux

by simonsaysfunction



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonsaysfunction/pseuds/simonsaysfunction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had a connection, he could feel it from the first time he set eyes on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha Redux

That morning they had become the first class to graduate from the Jaeger Academy. It was almost strange to receive their official ranks as Rangers and their designations after such intensive and grueling training. To stand there in lines and become decorated as officers deemed worthy enough to be defenders of humanity. He wouldn’t call them heroes, though certainly he held a certain reverence for Marshall Pentecost and the others who had successfully killed a kaiju in a Jaeger. It was a duty and an honor to defend, but it wasn’t heroic.  
  
They called them, him, brave, like it was awe-inspiring they had even attempted to join the program in the first place let alone been tested and tempered, molded into the soldiers they were now. He repressed a sneer at the adulation that was already being lavished upon his peers as if they had already destroyed the breach.  
  
His attitude towards the attention notwithstanding, he was described as a gentle giant until you got him in the Kwoon. He had spurted quickly into his height, all gangly limbs and unsteady, lumbering gait until he had begun his training, replacing his boyish silhouette with one of hulking musculature. His sheer size and uncertain English had most of the boys in the class, even the older ones, wary of him.  
  
Which is how Aleksis Kaidanovsky found himself crouched over a table that felt like it was made for a doll (was he really that big in comparison, he wondered) nursing a beer that he hadn’t touched. The bar was moderately lit, mildly dirty, though not as dirty as some he had been in back home, and packed full of fellow graduates. It was uneventful, really, the hum of conversation and the clink of glass with the background of low music and the sound of people using the pool tables.  
  
It had almost lulled him. The slow atmosphere and the noise blurred, nearly making him doze into the lingering foam in the glass. That was, until, the splintering of a pool cue turned everything deathly silent beyond the music and suddenly everyone had turned their attention to the center-most table where a man, American if Aleksis remembered correctly, had the cue in question, one half in each hand, and was staring murderously at a woman with hair so blonde it seemed almost silver.  
  
“That’s bullshit. There’s no fuckin’ way you could’ve made that shot.” The man had a faint slur around a few of the syllables, and two other men were flanking him, nodding to emphasize his point.  
  
“Not my problem Americans have no skill.” Aleksis could only see the back of her head, the straight as a board posture and the anticipatory tension in the set of her shoulders. He could, however, hear the sneer in her voice that carried an accent that matched his own. He felt her presence like a punch in the chest, right to his heart, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her before. It was electric; the longer he stared the more he felt it like a brand new pulse in his body, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end.  
  
He took a breath to steady himself, heart pounding wildly in his chest despite that he hadn’t moved except to crane his neck to see better. The man took a swing at her with the thicker half of the cue and she sidestepped fluidly, sending her fist into his kidney, and when he doubled over, a knee into his solar plexus. Aleksis could see her profile now, perfectly sculpted, though he couldn’t quite make out the color of her eyes in the dimness. With the first man on the floor, writhing in pain, the other two came at her and she trounced them just as easily as she had the first. She glanced around the crowd, sharp and alert for another challenger, before the coiled tension eased from her slight frame and she stepped delicately over the beaten men and towards a bar stool.  
  
Slowly, the buzz of conversation started back up from a hushed whisper until it reached the volume it had previously, the air clearing of the fog the scuffle had caused. A few others came and lifted their fallen comrades, helping them out the door and towards, he presumed, a bed and perhaps medical attention.  
  
Though his mind was uncertain of the plan it had just formulated, his body moved of its own accord, abandoning the lukewarm beer and moving with as much confidence as it could muster until he had perched himself on a stool beside her. He motioned for the bartender, leaning over to ask for two glasses and the best vodka they had on the shelf. He doubted it would be anything other than the cheap American brands he had seen on his way from Moscow to Alaska, but it was undoubtedly better than the beer their classmates had chosen.  
  
He filled the glasses himself when they were brought over, sliding the second towards the woman with his index finger until it was within her line of sight. She turns her head, one pale eyebrow arched high on her forehead and he can make out now that her eyes are blue.  
  
Sasha, for her part, merely looked between the shots, the bottle, and the kid she had seen briefly on occasion during training. With a mental shrug, however, she accepted it, curling her fingers around the cool glass without picking it up, her eyes now firmly trained on him. He intrigued her, this young man who still has youth in his features despite his incredible size, the naïve hope in his eyes that only the clinging remnants of childhood could produce.  
  
He intrigued her because he was not afraid of her. The men she had played pool with were wary, skittish, only directly confronting her with the liquid courage in their veins and wounded pride clouding their brains. Everyone at the Academy gave her a wide berth, calling her ice queen when they thought she couldn’t hear or couldn’t understand. She wore the title with pride. Ice was her home, after all, the freezing winters had tempered her into what she was before she had ever set foot on this island to become a Ranger.  
  
They feared her brash temperament, her perfectionist criticism, her drive to be even better than the best, viewing the Marshal like a challenge to be overcome instead of a superior officer. The only one in the very short history of Jaegers to pilot one alone.    
  
So she looked at him, this quiet child of the same Mother only just growing into his bulk, still hesitant and lanky like a colt on its way to becoming a fearsome stallion. Her eyes narrowed slightly, taking a closer look and it’s like she can see the pilot he will become, strong and sturdy and resilient. And then, Sasha took her shot.  
  
Once the liquid had hit the back of the woman’s throat, Aleksis had taken his, hitting the glass to the bar top with a deliberate amount of force, challenging her. An amused sort of surprise crossed her features and the barest hint of a smile accompanied the refill of their glasses. This time, she offered the shot up in a toast that Aleksis accepted, the glasses clinking together before they were tipped back to respective mouths.  
  
***  
  
Aleksis had lost count after they had finished the first bottle and moved on to a second. However, since he was face down on the bar, and she wasn’t, he knew she had won. And then, despite his protest, she was lifting him up out of the stool with his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. She was deceptively strong to be able to support his bulk, but that didn’t surprise him even through his hazy brain.  
  
He didn’t know her name or even if she knew his (doubtful) but he still felt that connection he had when he’d first laid eyes on her. They were destined to be something and he didn’t realize he had been speaking aloud until she had muttered that they better get him home before he fell in love with an icicle. He could have sworn he saw a rosy tint to her cheeks.  
  
Sasha continued to carry him back towards the dormitories for the Academy, making a mental note to make arrangements for them to meet in the Kwoon sometime in the very near future despite the possibility that this was just the drunken ramblings of an infatuated, talkative child. However, there was the fact that he was the only one not trembling in his boots at the idea of speaking to her, the only one who didn’t treat her like she was from another planet entirely or that she had horns sprouting from her head. That, at least, was nice.  
  
She needed a Drift partner. What good was her Ranger training if she didn’t have anyone to Drift with? So far he was the only one who had even spoken to her without being required to and he had smiled, offered her a drink. Even the slimmest chance at compatibility was better than no chance at all.  
  
It took less time than she thought it might to get him into his room and deposit him heavily on to a mattress that creaked and groaned under a weight it wasn’t intended for. She leaned over him to make sure he was still breathing and then she froze. He had raised his hand to slide a lock of hair back behind her ear, looking at her with…she couldn’t find the words to describe the look in his eyes, but it definitely wasn’t inebriated. She had never seen that look before, let alone had it directed towards her and she repressed a shiver. Maybe just maybe what he had rambled about wasn’t nothing.  
  
***  
  
Aleksis watched the other woman, whose name he had finally learned—Sasha (it suited her, he thought, carefully observing the way she moved)--warm up with a mild note of trepidation.  
  
 _He had woken that morning with a glass of water and aspirin next to his bed and a note informing him of her name, that it was very stupid of him to have challenged her to a drinking match, but that she admired his spirit, and that they had an appointment in the Kwoon that afternoon._  
  
 _He had moved to take the pills and drained the glass, dressing with deliberate movements because his head was pounding like giant was using his skull as a treadmill. He was hungry, however, and couldn’t ignore the rumbling of his stomach and therefore once he was dressed, he made his way to the mess hall, making a concentrated effort not to stumble or squint._  
  
 _In line, he smiled at the cooks, who liberally piled food on his plate as they had from the first day at the Academy, praising him as a growing boy, and turned to go towards the boys who weren’t his friends but whom he had sat with every mess since the start. At the last minute, he pivoted on his heel and carried his tray to the opposite side of the hall. There was Sasha, sitting by herself and finishing off her plate. She looked perfectly composed and in the back of his mind, Aleksis complained to himself that it certainly wasn’t fair. She’d had just as much, if not more, of the vodka._  
  
 _He sat across from her and she glanced up, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge his presence. They sat in silence until he had almost finished his food, sopping up the last of what passed for eggs with a bit of toast. It was halfway to his mouth when she spoke up, and he almost choked on it._  
  
 _“Would you like to get drunk under the table again?” The still quality of her voice belied the spark of humor he could see in her eyes. “If you pay, I will beat you again.”_  
  
 _With that, she was standing up and walking away._  
  
Which brought him back to the present in the Kwoon where she had finished her warm ups and was now standing on the mat with her hanbo, waiting for him to get his head back.  
  
When he stepped on to the mat, he immediately dropped into his stance, watching her do the same with the same sense of trepidation. It wasn’t that he was afraid _of_ her, but more that he was afraid _for_ her. His size wasn’t just for show; he had sent another in their class to medical after a round in the Kwoon and he didn’t want to do the same to her. His brow furrowed and in the same second that he was trying to calculate the amount of force to use against her, her staff had cracked across his face, sending him to the floor in a wave of pain.  
  
“One point,” her voice sounded above him, sounding irritated. “Pay attention, Aleksis.”  
  
He spit a mouthful of blood out to the side and without moving from his kneeling position, whipped the hanbo out to strike the backs of her knees, sending her toppling to the mat with a whoosh of air leaving her on impact.  
“One to one,” He responded, almost cheeky, as he got to his feet and waited for her to do the same. If she wasn’t going to hold back, as the mottling bruise on his cheek attested, then neither was he.  
  
And then they were at it, moving back and forth across the mat in perfect symmetry, the sound of the hanbo hitting each other ringing in the suddenly quiet space. They were aware on some level of the audience they had attracted, watching them with rapt attention, but their focus was on each other, anticipating the others’ moves, searching for a hesitation, a weakness, and finding none. Absolute perfect compatibility; it wasn’t pretty, but it was powerful and it worked.  
  
They stopped after what seems like an eternity, sweat sticking her shirt to her frame and drenching their hair, droplets finding a course down their bodies. Their breath came out in harsh pants, gasping for the oxygen that was partially denied during their dance. The people didn’t cheer, now afraid of the two Russians whose attention is no longer captured, and quickly went back to what they had been doing previously.  
  
Sasha grinned at him, almost predatory, but definitely full of pride and reached up to tap her knuckles against his cheek. She left abruptly afterwards, or so it seemed to Aleksis. He would only find out later, in a meeting with Marshal Pentecost that they were Drift compatible.  
  
They were real Rangers now.


End file.
